Bloody Shredded Souls
by TheVampireLucinda
Summary: The Wyatts have the Brothers of Destruction in their possession, and the only thing they want from them is their souls. Complete!
1. Capture

**Title** : Bloody Shredded Souls

 **Author** : TheVampireLucinda

 **Featuring** : The Undertaker, Kane, Bray Wyatt

 **Disclaimer** : Rated T for violence (some torture), language, and...themes. Also, I naturally write slashy, but this isn't romance, haha. Also, kayfabed, as usual.

 **Summary** : The Wyatts have the Brothers of Destruction in their possession, and the only thing they want from them is their souls.

* * *

"Ah, shit."

The first thing that the Undertaker became aware of as consciousnesses slowly returned was his violent, throbbing headache.

The second was that he was bound in thick chains that felt ice cold against his warm skin. Both his wrists, his ankles, and even his neck were wreathed with metal, and the slightest movement seemed to make the shackles tighter.

The Deadman sighed, kneeling in his bonds. He recalled the match with Lesnar, feeling no small rush of anger when he thought about how it ended. Even worse, those damn _freaks_ had come out before he could even gracefully bow out, ensuring that his long night would extend into an even long night...or longer.

"Hey, how long are you bastards going to keep me here?" 'Taker called out, short on patience and wanting nothing more than to sleep in his own house, in his own bed. Hell, the least they could do is let him shower and change...

"You don't like the accommodations, Deadman?" a cackling voice asked from the shadows. The Undertaker turned his head, scoffing as Bray Wyatt came into view. "I thought it'd be to your liking: cold, dark, silent."

"I guess you don't know me all that well, then," the Undertaker replied, relaxing his stance, sitting comfortably with his back against the stone wall. He wanted to make it clear to Wyatt and his followers that he did not fear them at all, and never would.

"I much prefer a casket."

"Oh, you'll have your casket soon enough, trust you me, Deadman."

Bray grinned as he knelt, just out of reach of the Undertaker's long arms, and his smile was growing by the second.

"Your body will long for the comfort of the grave once my family and I are finished with you. Fortunately, your soul will have long since fled it's mortal coil, and lent its power to my own."

Although the Undertaker had already prepared smart-ass retort, that last sentence gave him pause. His bright green eyes narrowed as he stared at the young man in front of him. He couldn't read much from him, but the one thing that he could read was stamped clear as day on his face:

Desire.

But for what?

"You're a crazy fucker, aren't you?" the Undertaker asked, crossing his arms. "Do you really think that you know, that you can even _handle_ the Darkness?" Slowly, he rose to his knees, pulling the chains as far as they could go, so that he could be face-to-face with Wyatt.

"I am the Undertaker, the Reaper of Wayward Souls. That is the path that I chose, so long ago. If you want to travel the Highway to Hell, you'll have to find your own way. Taking my soul will do _nothing_ for you...trust me."

Bray Wyatt threw his head back and laughed. "You really are terrifying," he said with not a trace of sarcasm. "And that's all the more reason why I want—why I _need_ you. I need your soul, your powers, your terror. I need to become One with the Darkness, and I'll prove myself by destroying you.

"I will be the new Lord of Darkness, the new Face of Fear. They will tremble at the very sound of my name, and fall at my feet as they beg _me_ for mercy!"

Bray's voice, already shaking with excitement, rose higher and higher in pitch until he was nearly screaming even as he laughed.

"It's oh so beautiful, Undertaker! And how fortunate you are to be a part of it!"

There was a long silence. The Undertaker shook his head, almost sadly, and sat back on his heels.

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said softly. "Not that I give a damn about you, but you really don't know what you're saying."

Wyatt's eyes slowly refocused at that, flashing briefly with long-buried rage. He reached out quicker than eyes could follow and grabbed the Undertaker's chin, forcing their eyes to lock once more.

"I'm really tired of people telling me what I know and don't know," he remarked in an almost-sane voice. "I know _exactly_ what I want, and I know exactly how to get it."

All at once, he pressed his lips hard against the Deadman's, who first stiffened in surprise, and then shoved the younger man violently away, spitting immediately.

When 'Taker looked up again, Bray was licking his lips.

"See, that's the taste," he whispered. "That's what I want. That raw power, that raw danger...that deep terror..." He stood up slowly. "That is why I need your soul, Deadman. And I'll do whatever it takes to get it."

The Undertaker stared up at the man defiantly. "You'll never break me, Wyatt. No one has, and no one will."

Bray smiled once more. "You of all people should know better than to say never," he scolded lightly. "I'm going to tear your mind, body, and soul apart, and then sift through the pieces for what I need."

"And just how in the hell are you planning to do that?"

Wyatt shot the Undertaker one last smile before heading over to the large metal door. He opened it slowly, lovingly running his fingers over the many locks and bolts.

"Now where would the fun be in telling you what I'm going to do to you? I'll leave the details up to your imagination for now. Have a good night, Deadman."

And just like that, the Undertaker was alone in the room once more. He had no idea where, exactly, he was, or how long they planned on keeping him...or if he would ever leave there alive.

With a sigh, 'Taker moved back to the wall, resting against it once more. Surely the silence and waiting was a part of whatever torture was planned for him, and in the back of his mind, he wondered vaguely if his soul even _could_ be taken. Bray Wyatt really was trying to do something that had never been done, or even attempted before.

The Undertaker was intimately familiar with Death; but what did it mean to lose one's soul to another?

Questions plagued him, until at last he found himself drifting off to sleep. He didn't know what the next days were going to hold, but he was certain that it wasn't going to be anything good.

* * *

"Let me go, you son of a bitch!"

The Undertaker jolted awake at sudden noise; even more so at the voice than the sound of chains being locked and the door being slammed. He knew that voice too well, and when his eyes adjusted to the darkness once more, he found a familiar set of eyes staring back at him from the shadows, just out of his reach as Wyatt had been.

"Oh, God dammit," the Undertaker said aloud, feeling at once a rush of happiness and sadness.

"What in the fuck are you doing here, Kane?!"

* * *

 _Next chapter up soon! I love that the WWE is devoting this week, and Survivor Series, to the Undertaker!_


	2. Brothers

From his spot against the wall, the Big Red Machine shrugged, rubbing his wrists where the metal touched flesh.

Kane had recovered quickly from the beatdown he'd received in an effort to defend, and possibly even save his older brother. However, his mood wasn't at all good as he stared at the wall of their large cell.

Not only had he failed to help his brother, but he'd gotten himself captured too.

"Those Wyatts are damn crazy," he sighed, shaking his head as much at himself as at them. "I mean, I know that _I'm_ crazy, and I know that _you're_ batshit insane...but those guys are on a whole 'nother level."

The Undertaker rolled his eyes, although he couldn't keep a small smile from his lips. "I'm glad to see that you have a good sense of humor about all this, little brother. I think we're in some deep shit, though."

"Tell me about it," Kane answered, scanning the room. He was much smarter than most people guessed from just looking at him; and from the moment he was imprisoned, he began to look for a way out. "Bray was going on and on about tearing out our souls. Pretty morbid stuff, even for us. And I, for one, would rather not go through his little experiment."

'Taker nodded, folding his arms as he thought. "Exactly. Now let's get the hell out of here." He started to pull against the chains, but quickly realized that they were securely fastened to the stone wall. And when he looked at the cuffs themselves, there seemed to be no locks anywhere. How in the hell had he been chained up?

"Easier said than done?" Kane asked with a small smile as he tested the limits of his chains, and measured that distance against the floor. "It's going to take a small miracle to get out of here, you know. Because I'm not seeing any exits except that well-bolted door over there."

The Deadman nodded. "I think we're going to have to play this one smart..." He knew that even though they were joking about it now, the situation really was dire. They were trapped God-knows-where by a bunch of mad men who wanted to do who-knows-what to them.

No laughing matter indeed.

"Better to be laughing than crying though, right?" the Big Red Machine chimed in, earning himself a scowl.

"Stop reading my mind," 'Taker growled. "You know I hate that."

Kane gave his big brother a wink. "All's fair. I know you can hear my thoughts too, if you wanted. But I'll save you the trouble and let you know what I'm thinking anyway."

"I really don't want to-"

"I'm thinking, 'Damn, even though he's my brother, he looks super sexy all chained up like that.'"

"Kane-"

"I knew it was a good idea to bring both of you here."

The Brothers of Destruction paused in their bickering to stare at the door, neither man very happy to see Bray Wyatt standing there with the same mad smile plastered on his face.

He had somehow entered the room without making a sound.

And now, as he appraised the Brothers with hungry eyes, the twisted smile on his lips began to grow.

"Darkness," he intoned, coming ever closer but keeping out of their reach. "Lighting. Fire. Pain. Madness. Cold, calculating insanity. You two have everything that I want."

"Release these chains, and we can give you everything you want and more," Kane replied darkly, a murderous look in his eyes. "Especially the pain."

Bray laughed and sat on the floor, crossing his legs at the ankles.

"You are so wonderful, Kane. You see, I don't think I can break your brother without the one thing he cares about most in the world..."

The Undertaker's green eyes grew wide.

"Don't you dare touch him!" he snarled, pulling once more against the heavy chains. "I'll kill you!"

But Wyatt's attention was fully on the Big Red Machine now. "I could torture the Deadman, but I'm sure that it'll be even more effective to torture you in front of him. I know that neither of you are really all that big on showing how much pain you're in, but I have ways of making you hurt that you wouldn't believe...

"Would you like a demonstration right now?"

The Brothers remained silent, but shared a slightly worried look between themselves. Bray stood slowly and left the room, not even bothering to lock the door behind him.

"I don't like this at all," the Undertaker said softly after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "We have to get the hell out of here, _now_."

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking..." the Big Red Machine said softly, pulling his knees up to his chest, rocking slowly back and forth. "First, these chains, then the door-"

As if on cue, the huge metal door swung open, and Bray entered once more with a box.

"Now, Kane," he began, still ignoring the Undertaker completely, "I am going to give you a choice that I am _not_ going to give to Big Brother over there." He sat in front of Kane once more, once again just out of reach. His eyes glittered in the semi-darkness.

"I will give you the choice of killing the Undertaker or-"

"Or, what? You'll kill me?" Kane finished, laughing. "Fuck off, Kid."

Bray laughed in return. "Oh, no. I make you no such offer. I know you would easily give your life for his...even though I can't imagine why anyone would do such a thing."

The Big Red Machine growled at that, feeling a flash of anger at the pain that appeared, only for a moment, in his brother's green eyes.

"What's my other option?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"You either kill your brother...or _I'll_ kill him. In front of you."

Kane's eyes grew wide at that, and he turned to the Undertaker, both of their faces showing just the slightest mixture of confusion and fear.

"If you do choose to separate your brother's soul from his body, you'll spare him from the pain of me trying to figure out how to do it myself...and I have a few ideas that I'd like to try."

With that, Bray opened the box, and pulled out none other than the glittering, gold urn of the Undertaker.

From his place on the floor, 'Taker froze.

"Bray Wyatt, I swear, I will end you," he swore stiffly.

"Not if I end you first," Wyatt replied, never breaking eye contact with Kane, even as he opened the urn and plunged his hand inside.

The Undertaker didn't have a chance to brace himself for the searing pain that lit up the tips of every nerve-ending in his body. He gasped, eyes wide, and slammed himself against the wall he was chained to, unknowingly causing the chains to dig into his flesh as he convulsed.

"Stop it!" Kane cried out, reaching out to strangle Wyatt, grunting in surprise and distress when his fingertips could only just barely skim the man's beard. "Dammit, stop, Bray! You can't kill him that way!"

The leader of the Wyatt family pulled his hand out of the urn, smiling. He never once broke eye-contact with Kane through the entire ordeal.

"That's the point, Little Brother," he whispered, the endearment causing the Big Red Machine to wince as if in pain himself. "I'm going to hurt Big Brother until you finally put him out of his misery... You're only here to increase his suffering in the meantime, for now.

"But once he's gone, you and I will play. I've always like you a lot, Kane. I can't wait to have you all alone."

Through a haze of pain, the Undertaker could just barely make out the conversation between Kane and Bray.

"Fuck you," the Deadman said in one breath, voice raspy from pain.

"Shut up, he's serious!" Kane commanded, still staring into Bray Wyatt's eyes. Although the Undertaker fell into a stunned silence, the Big Red Machine could see the madness in the younger man's eyes. He could see that this man was willing to go as far as he needed to go to get what he wanted—and even beyond that.

He didn't just want their souls. He wanted to break them in every way, and then take whatever remained.

"See, Deadman," Bray said with a smile, at last turning to the Undertaker as he rose to his feet. "Little Brother understands. You should just give up, and save yourself a whole lot of pain. I;ll be back tomorrow."

He casually brushed off his pants, and left without a word, loudly activating every lock upon his exit.

The Undertaker and Kane sat in silence once more, the older brother staring up at the ceiling, and the younger looking anxiously at the door.

"We're screwed," Kane said softly, a despairing smile coming to his face. "I don't know how long I can take seeing him hurt you..."

The Undertaker looked at his brother out of the corner of his eyes, head still resting against the stones, which felt cool and almost soothing against his burning head.

"Don't talk like that," he said gently, body only slowly recovering from the trauma of the urn. "We'll get out of here. I'll find a way. I promise."

"Better find it quick," was the nearly inaudible reply, and the Deadman knew that the countdown to his demise may very well have begun.


	3. Tears

_A/N: Trust the WWE to f*** up a perfectly good story... Survivor Series was SUCH a disappointment, as well as the ending of this feud. OH WELL, I guess I'll have to write my own ending...mwahaha. Sorry for the delay also. Life happened...bleh._

* * *

Through the dense fog of pain, hunger, and thirst, the Undertaker could still hear the remnants of electricity as it crackled across his skin and through his blood. He could just barely make out Kane's face, devoid of emotion and eyes dead as he watched his brother grit his teeth in an attempt to hold back his screams.

It had been five days, by the Deadman's count, but it had felt like a month. Bray Wyatt and his weird followers—who never entered the dungeon without those idiotic sheep masks—had been giving the brothers a steady diet of drug-laced water and pain.

Bray hadn't used the urn since that first night, but it remained in the room, just out of reach, always a reminder, taunt, a threat.

What the madman preferred, however, was to use the brothers' own abilities against them. To torture them with their own powers. He absolutely loved that game.

So far, he had only gone as far as using the Undertaker's lightening against him. But the threat of using fire against Kane remained, and it haunted both brothers every night.

'Taker forced himself to keep a hopeful, if not stoic, demeanor. He knew that if he were to give into despair—as his little brother was doing, unfortunately—the chances of them leaving alive would drop to zero.

'He's doesn't know how to get rid of us just yet,' the Deadman reasoned as the 5th night fell. 'Otherwise, he would have done so already. So, what is he waiting for?'

As if one cue, the large metal door swung open, and Bray Wyatt walked in with his "family," the same mad smile on his face as it always was.

"I've learned something new, Deadman. I know that you don't respond very much to physical pain...but, _my_ response is as important as yours, you see. To get your true powers, I can't just imitate. I have to absorb."

The largest of the family, clad in a goat mask, was near Kane in a flash, and wrapped his massive arm around the Big Red Machine's nearly-immobile arm.

"For example," Bray continued, nearly salivating. "If I, say, have my dear Brother break your dear brother's arm...I'll have the opportunity to take in every ounce of his agony."

The Undertaker pulled against his bonds, growling audibly. "I told you not to fucking touch him!"

Bray began to laugh. "Why on Earth would I listen to you, Deadman? You are powerless down here...you can't even save yourself, much less your beloved little brother. And at the end of the day, it makes more sense for me to hurt him in order to get to you both.

"I mean, I'd have my Family whip you bloody, but I'm afraid you'd get too turned on by it."

'Taker's teeth were visible as he snarled, although his green eyes still glowed with worry for his brother.

"Fuck you."

"Don't fret," Kane whispered. "He won't do it." He winked up at Bray, a twisted smile on his face. "And I've sure as hell had much worse than a broken arm!"

The leader of the Wyatts seemed impressed. "You're made of harder stuff than your big brother, in some ways...I like it." He knelt by Kane's side, affectionately running a hand along his top of his head. The larger man pulled as far away as he could from the unwanted touch.

"I don't know if either of you have noticed yet, but in this cell, you are both slowly reverting back to your old selves. Kane, the silent, tortured monster, and the Undertaker, the heartless, even more tortured demon.

"Once you've gone back to the darkest reaches of your soul... _then_ I will take them from you."

Bray Wyatt stood up and waved his hand in some sort of signal. The rest of the family came forward, and, with little fanfare, rained down heavy punches and stomps on the Brothers until they were battered into unconsciousness. The Eater of Worlds looked down at them, shaking his head.

"Oh, but we've got such a long way to go...and such a short time to get there."

* * *

When the Undertaker opened his eyes, he was chained to a metal rocking chair, and Bray Wyatt was standing in front of him, a mad smile on his face.

"I'm gettin' really sick of seeing you," 'Taker growled, although the bite of his words was taken away somewhat by his bindings.

Still, Bray drank it in, even shuddering visibly as he stared into those burning green eyes that he had grown to love.

'I think I'll keep them,' he thought ominously, sitting cross-legged in front of the Deadman. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glass vial that was shaped like a human heart, and connected by its top to a chain. The Undertaker raised an eyebrow at the odd pendant.

"It will help me gain your powers," Wyatt explained, catching the look. He held up the vial so that it twirled in the dim light, casting a strange shadow on the far wall. "I need a container, you see."

'Taker rolled his eyes. "For my blood, I'm guessing?" he asked sardonically, but the Eater of Worlds only laughed.

"For your _tears_ , Reaper!"

Now _that_ gave the Deadman pause; and although he would never admit it out loud, he felt a brief flash of fear.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, boy, but I don't cry."

Bray Wyatt laughed again, and now he stood, slowly approaching the bound Reaper.

"Oh, I know," he admitted, fingers lovingly caressing the vial. "You're far too strong, and stubborn for all that. Well, at least, not from _physical_ pain."

For the first time since kissing him, Bray touched the Undertaker, gently placing his hands on the sides of his head. He simply couldn't resist stroking those quickly-growing dark-orange-black locks, loving the deep growl it produced in the back of Undertaker's throat.

"True rage," Bray said breathlessly. "And true sorrow, all behind those wonderful eyes..."

Before his victim could brace himself for it, the leader of the Wyatt family was inside of the Undertaker's mind, causing a million images to rise up from the dark depths of his memory.

'Taker tried to wrench away, to break Bray's grip, but the physical pressure in his head was building even as the mental pressure increased, and very soon he was immobile, staring sightlessly in front of him as his life replayed in his mind's eye.

Not his entire life, though. Only those moments of pain, and sorrow; moments when he had felt as though his heart would truly break.

Moments when the pain had been so great, that he had to retreat into his inner darkness, or into the arms of a loved one. Moments that he couldn't handle alone, to his shame.

Only now, reliving them, he _was_ alone. And his heart was breaking.

Pain, suffering, betrayal, death...the Undertaker saw and felt them, _experienced_ them once again.

And, at last, the kaleidoscope of images and emotions settled on single moment.

He was a child—not yet the Undertaker, but simply Mark. He was standing outside. It was the winter, but something was far too warm...

He was crying. Screaming.

"Mom! Dad! Glen!"

He couldn't stop crying. Paul Bearer was holding him back, keeping him from running into the burning house in an attempt to save his family; or, rather, to die with them.

 _You can't be dead!_ _I can't live alone! I don't want to be alone!_

 _**So selfish.**_

It wasn't his voice. Mark knew that this thought wasn't his. But who was it?

 _ **You killed your family, and your first thought is about yourself. You truly never loved, have you? Even now, you don't know what that means, do you?**_

 _"I know what it means. I know how to love. I have loved before. I love even now. That's not the problem..."_

Was that his voice, so weak in its answer? What was happening?

 _I have loved...But who could ever love me?_

The Undertaker slowly blinked, mind once again in his control. He could feel something cool and smooth against his cheek, and Bray Wyatt's long hair filled his vision.

"Thanks, Deadman."

The Man of a Thousand Truths held up the vial, which was now filled with a shining, clear liquid.

The Undertaker stared at it, silent. He could still feel the warm, wet tracks on his cheeks.

"Go to Hell," he whispered, closing his eyes and lowering his head so that the last of his tears could fall.

"With pleasure," Bray Wyatt answered; and, oddly enough, there were tears in his own eyes as well as he left.


	4. Last Breath

_I am so, so sorry for the delay...I hit major writer's block on this story, and almost abandoned it...But, I knew that some of you really enjoyed it, and I wanted to finish it too! I begged my Muses, and they finally came through for me. I hope that you all are satisfied with where this went! It'll be 5 chapters total. Thank you all for your support and patience so far!_

* * *

Bray circled Kane slowly, alternating between holding a large candle closer and further from the exposed skin on his captive's toned chest.

To his disappointment, however, the Big Red Machine didn't flinch—and there wasn't a hint of terror in his eyes either.

They simply seemed... _dead_.

"Are you finished yet?" Kane asked sardonically, not even blinking as the flame's tongue licked at his left nipple. "Because I'd much rather be sleeping. Or eating."

The leader of the Wyatt family shook his head, smiling the whole while as he extinguished the candle. "You and your brother are something else. You take turns being smart asses; it's starting to get me angry, a little. And if I get angry, I'm really going to hurt you."

The Big Red Machine smirked, more than a hint of madness in his gaze. "We're not afraid of you, Kid. _No one_ is afraid of you. You call yourself the new face of fear, but you won't know true fear until you've tangled with the Brothers of Destruction."

Bray Wyatt snarled. For some reason, he had much less patience with Kane than he did with the Undertaker. And although he didn't question it at the time, he began to wonder, vaguely, if taking in the powers of the Brothers was changing his soul, too.

After all, there was a growing, painful, burning madness hovering at the edge of his mind that was making him lash out more than he ever had before in his entire life.

"So what _are_ you afraid of, Little Brother?" the Eater of Worlds asked through clenched teeth—something he had never done until he drank the Undertaker's tears. "Enlighten me."

Kane seemed to consider the question.

"Not much...Maybe the wrath of my brother? Back in the day, it was the scorn and rejection of my father. Otherwise? Not many things get to me."

Bray held his arm up in the air, feeling darkness and lighting racing up and down his limbs. He pulled Kane in close, and pressed his hand against the older man's forehead almost gently.

Immediately, a painful shock encased the Big Red Machine's body, causing him to gasp in barely-suppressed agony.

" _This_ wrath?" the Eater of World's taunted, only letting go when Kane slumped in his bonds. "Is _this_ what you fear?"

Kane looked up at Bray through half-closed eyelids, breathing heavily as he tried to steady himself.

"You...don't get it," he managed to choke out, a crooked smile on his face. "I'm not afraid of my brother's _power_...I'm afraid of _him_. And you should be too."

"Explain."

"The Darkness that lives in him is now growing in you. My madness is in there as well. No human can contain it all. Especially not one so unworthy as yourself."

Before he could stop himself, Bray lashed out, punching the Big Red Machine square in the mouth. He had intended to only hit the man once, but rage over took his senses, until his found himself pummeling the older man, fists raining down on his victim's head, his torso, everywhere he could reach.

Several minutes passed. Bray noticed that Kane was very quiet now. As reason returned to him, he looked down and saw that the man was unconscious—though, of course, still smiling his torn, bloody smile.

Afraid of himself, the leader of the Wyatt family called in Braun and Luke.

"Bring the Deadman in here with his brother," he commanded, ignoring their questioning glances as they took in Kane's physical state. "I'm growing tired of their games. If I don't find a way to take their souls by tomorrow night, I'm just going to get rid of them."

While the two men rushed to obey, the couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that surrounded them whenever they were around their Leader. Something about him had been off since he'd brought the Undertaker and Kane to their hideout, though they couldn't quite put their finger on it.

What they did know for certain was that Bray Wyatt had _never_ smiled like that before.

* * *

The Undertaker sat silently by his younger brother's motionless body, rage simmering in his glowing green eyes as he assessed the damage.

He waited, silent and grim, until Kane began to stir, grimacing as he sat up slowly.

"Damn," he muttered hoarsely, and was surprised to find that his brother took his head in his lap and held a bottle of water to his lips.

"Stole it from one of the stooges," the Deadman explained, sighing as he watched Kane drink the water all at once.

Though certainly not normal humans, the Brothers of Destruction were still in many ways mortal; and much time had elapsed since they'd been trapped in this hellish prison.

If Bray Wyatt didn't finish them off himself, the Undertaker feared that the physical and mental torture would do the job for him.

They had to escape. _Now_.

"Kane..." 'Taker began, sighing against, barely refraining from touching his brother's injured head. "I figured out a way to get out of here...but you're not going to like it."

The Big Red Machine raised an eyebrow—or, tried to, but found that his eyelid was too swollen to move very much.

"What do you mean?" he asked solemnly. "It's going to involve you getting hurt, isn't it?

"Something like that," the Undertaker said softly, shaking his head. "I mean, we're _both_ going to get hurt, if I'm honest." He locked eyes with his younger brother, voice dropping to a low whisper.

"In fact, it's going to feel like dying..."

Kane swallowed hard, but nodded. His brother was in a rare mood: completely serious, and utterly concerned.

It was terrifying.

"Whatever it is...I trust you." Against his will, and through the pain in his face, the Big Red Machine smiled. "But, fuck it, if you betray me like before, I swear I'll come back to life and beat your ass back into the grave."

'Taker smiled in return, though his heart felt heavy with what they were going to have to do.

"Alright, Kane. Here's the plan..."

* * *

"Like it, Undertaker? I made it especially for you."

Though the Undertaker was unbound, Bray held his urn, and he could do nothing but stare and listen. The man had gone on and on about figuring out how to take his soul; and much to the Deadman's dismay, Bray wasn't entirely on the wrong track.

As evidenced by the large symbol that the Undertaker was no doubt soon to be crucified on.

"What about Kane?" 'Taker asked, pushing his own fears aside and laying the trap, realizing that their time was up.

Bray frowned. "I haven't figured that one out yet. But, no matter. Once you're gone, I'm sure he'll come around sooner than later."

The Undertaker shook his head stiffly. "Kane and I are very different...The only one who could even begin to figure out how to take his powers would be Paul Bearer...Rest his soul."

The Eater of Worlds rubbed his chin. "Ah, yes...His father. Only his father would know, hmmm?" A slow smile began to form underneath his beard.

"If his father knew," Bray speculated, "I'm sure that his big brother knows as well."

It wasn't much, but the Undertaker reacted ever-so-slightly, as his green eyes grew momentarily wide.

'Gotcha,' Bray thought triumphantly.

"Yes," he continued. "Big Brother is going to be of infinite help to me on this matter..."

"You can't make me do this," the Undertaker asked through grit teeth, voice strained. It was as much a demand as it was a plea.

But Bray simply held up the urn, eyeing it lovingly.

"Oh, Deadman...But I can.

"And I will."

* * *

 _Looks dire..._

 _Review?_


	5. No Match

_A/N: The final chapter! Thank you all for your support! I hope you've enjoyed the ride!_

* * *

Kane was beginning to get nervous.

Bray and two of the biggest members of the Wyatt Family had dragged the Undertaker out of the room several hours ago. Usually, through the walls, he could hear the sounds of a struggle, and his brother's angry voice cursing them all.

This time, however, there was only silence.

So he did the only thing he could do: He sat there and waited.

Kane waited, sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth, imagining what could have possibly happened to his older brother.

After hearing the Deadman's plan, Kane had, at first, refused. Not out of fear for himself, of course, but out of fear for his brother.

To go through that alone...

The Big Red Machine shook the dark thoughts from his mind. He had to keep hope. He had to keep his spirits up. What was it his brother had said just before they took him away?

 _Just keep breathing, Kane._

And breathe he did. Through the pain and the endless questions, exhale after inhale, Kane waited.

Between one breath and another, the heavy door opened. Bray entered first, followed by his three followers in lamb masks. They carried a large, metal Undertaker symbol, complete with chains and straps.

"Where'd you dig that old relic up from?" Kane asked, hiding his fear with humor.

Bray gave him a condescending smile. "I made it myself. It's for your dear Big Brother. He's going to rest in peace on it for all eternity. But don't worry about it—you'll be dead long before that happens."

With the slightest touch on the urn he held, Wyatt summoned the Undertaker into the room, and forced him to stand over the Big Red Machine, who seemed much smaller on his knees.

Kane looked up at his brother with wide eyes that held more than a little fear. It was obvious from the strained expression on his face that the Undertaker was being controlled completely; and his green eyes held untold amounts of pain.

Bray Wyatt moved off to the side, smiling victoriously. Everything was set, and the ceremony was ready to commence.

"I'm so sorry," the Undertaker was saying, as he knelt by Kane's side and took his younger brother gently into his arms. The Big Red Machine offered no resistance, knowing that it was useless to fight anyway.

"It's okay, Brother. Do what you gotta do."

"Don't stop breathing."

The Demon of Death Valley leaned forward, slowly, hoping to delay the inevitable. This was the last thing he wanted to do, and as he glared over at the smiling Bray Wyatt, he felt black despair grip his heart.

If he failed here, now, not only would he die, but he'd be killing his own brother as well.

Inhaling deeply, the Undertaker pressed his cold lips against Kane's fiery mouth, leaving himself in Fate's fickle hands.

From his vantage point leaning against the far wall, it seemed like a simple kiss to Bray. Incestuous, sure, but nothing special.

However, after a moment, he could _feel_ the exchange of power between the brothers, could _see_ the life energy flowing from Kane—who was growing more pale and more still every second—into the Undertaker, whose entire form began to burn from the inside as he breathed in his brother's Hellfire.

It only took a few minutes; and at last, with a heavy heart, the Deadman pulled back from the exchange, and lay his younger brother gently on the ground, lifeless and cold. Uncharacteristically, he placed a light kiss on the pale forehead.

"You'll pay for that, you fucking bastard," the Undertaker growled after several silent moments, turning to Bray with fire in his eyes, clutching at his middle.

For a brief moment, he considered throwing his whole plan to hell and attacking with the power of the fire and the shadow. Instant incineration was far better than this son of a bitch deserved, after all.

But the Wyatt family was on him immediately, dragging the weakened Undertaker by his hair and limbs over to the symbol, and strapping him there by his wrists and ankles. He was breathing heavily and erratically, in obvious pain from having absorbed so much power as his green eyes became darker by the second.

"Perfect."

Bray spoke quietly and reverently as he touched the sides of the Undertaker's face, making low cooing noises as the Deadman turned away from him.

"Rest easy, Undertaker. Your legacy will live on in me. I will show the world what one with your powers can do when unfettered by the bonds of vainglory and morality. I will bring about the Apocalypse with your strength, and your brother's; and those who survive will sing your names along with mine. Isn't that more than you could ever ask for?"

The Undertaker snarled at the man above him. "I told you, Boy...Selling your soul ain't worth it."

He closed his dull green eyes and lay flat against his crucifix, the metal cool against the back of his burning head. "Now hurry up, and let me go to my brother. I'm...tired."

The Eater of World's was more than happy to oblige.

Just as the Undertaker had done to Kane, Bray pressed his lips passionately against the Deadman's.

As before, he was surprised at their softness; and he was even more surprised this time by the lack of resistance he felt.

'It is finished.'

Two conflicting and consuming sensations flooded his body, and overwhelmed his soul. Fire and ice, lightening and thunder, pain and pleasure, darkness and flame. It raced around his brain, and down into his heart, to the very depths of his soul. His entire existence seemed to expand, and bright, painful points of light exploded behind his eyelids.

For a moment, an overwhelming feeling of something that resembled love for the Brothers overcame him, and a heavy stream of tears began to flow from Wyatt's eyes.

All the while, the Undertaker's vision darkened and narrowed, flickering in and out between this world and the next. He knew Death intimately, but this was something different entirely. The remains of his brother's soul, and his own, were being drained from him with each breath; his very life was flowing into the man he had grown to hate so much.

He was too weak to rage, and instead focused on making those last breaths count as white light filled his vision.

Bray collapsed at some point during the exchange, convulsing on the floor in agony and ecstasy.

And the entire time, his laughter echoed off the walls of the shadowy prison.

Just above him, the cold, lifeless body of the Undertaker lay prone on the symbol, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

* * *

The Dungeon, as it had been known, was finally abandoned. The Wyatts had left it, and the bodies of the Brothers of Destruction, without a second thought once Bray had what he wanted.

The Eater of Worlds was mad with power, bragging on every platform that he could, telling the world that he had broken the Undertaker and Kane. He, and he alone, had shredded their pathetic souls, and devoured the remains, taking their power unto himself.

He felt like a god. No...he _was_ a god, wielding the fire and the darkness by himself, above all others.

Bray Wyatt knew that there was no one who could stop him, or challenge him—not in the WWE, not in the entire world.

The Universe was his playground.

"Now, it truly begins..."

* * *

Back at Bray Wyatt's former playground, the Dungeon, the bodies of the Undertaker and Kane did not decay, though days and nights began to pass. In the stillness of eternal sleep, they lay more peacefully than they had in a while.

And, slowly, as the moon and stars passed overhead, the Brothers began to awaken once more.

Kane was the first to rise, sitting up and shivering with cold and memory. His body was whole, to his surprise, but he knew it would take a while for his mind to recover. Besides all that, he was nearly powerless, wielding just the barest bit of his innate fire.

But none of that mattered to him in those first moments, as he stood to look for his brother.

Kane found the Undertaker easily, for he was still chained to the symbol, unmoving, unbreathing.

Muttering curses upon Bray, he began to loosen the restraints on his brother until the Deadman was able to fall into his arms. Kane lowered the Undertaker to the floor, cradling him much as 'Taker had done to him earlier.

"You...breathed your life into me," the Big Red Machine mused, rocking back and forth slightly. "It worked...That's the only reason I was able to come back..." He felt tears hovering at the edges of his eyes.

"Ah, but you're selfish enough to give it all to me, and leave nothing for yourself, aren't you? Looking out for Baby Brother once more...God, I hate you sometimes!

"You better not leave me alone again!"

He hadn't meant to shout, but Kane could hear his voice echoing loudly through the silent prison. His weary eyes wandered to the unlocked door, and he considered carrying the Deadman out, to some place where they could both recover.

' _If_ we can recover...'

Brushing the dark thoughts aside, Kane stood shakily, free for the first time in weeks. He lifted his brother easily—Kane had always been stronger, physically—and began to carry the Undertaker.

"Goddammit, Kane, I can walk."

Startled and overjoyed, the Big Red Machine dropped his brother to the ground, forgetting everything else and embracing him warmly.

Though he tried to scowl, the Undertaker couldn't keep a smile from touching the corners of his lips.

His plan had worked, though the risk had been great. And now, while Bray thought that the Brothers of Destruction were dead and gone, the two of them would build up their power once more, and get their revenge on the man who dared to play with the two darkest, most power beings in the world.

"Alright, Kane, let me up...We're got some hell to raise and some souls to take. And it looks like Survivor Series is just around the corner."

The Big Red Machine began to laugh wickedly, and the Undertaker stood up slowly, rolling his eyes into the back of his head, imagining of all the ways they would enjoy consuming the Wyatt Family's bloody, shredded souls.

* * *

 **Raw, 11/16/2015**

 _"Standing before you is the true Army of Darkness. And on the horizon, vengeance awaits the Wyatt Family. The Wyatt Family took our bodies and tried to claim our souls. But there is no one, no man, living or dead, that contains the Power of the Darkside."_

 _"When you tried to steal the Flames of Hell, you will get burnt. At Survivor Series, we have reserved a special place for Bray Wyatt and his family in the deepest pit of Hell. A place where they will suffer in the fires of eternal damnation."_

 _"Bray Wyatt...your kind of evil is no match for ours. Our evil has been time-tested over, and over again. So this is what's going to happen: Bray Wyatt, choose whichever two of your family that you wish to sacrifice. 'Cause the Brothers of Destruction have already decided their destiny. And they will never...rest...in...peace..."_

* * *

 _The End!_

 _Review?_


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